I hold my head high

Updated on February 9, 2010

I HOLD MY HEAD HIGH

Just heard
that our school is celebrating
its 100th year!! Its fantastic to know that for the past hundred
years it has sent out children into this world who, I am sure, have been
taught the same morals and values as
me. It’s a seemingly impossible task to
write in a page or two ,all that the
school inculcated in me (and has
stayed with me for a lifetime). I am penning down some of the thoughts
and memories from my years there from 1969-1974.

Aah – the freedom and unfettered days of
youth! The wide- eyed innocence of School. Life had just begun. I can proudly
say that I studied for the six most important, beautiful years at The Convent of
Jesus and Mary, Ambala Cantt. Joined in Class VI. It was then a
neat, grey two storey building with red borders. Abutting it was another small,
three room building, which was for the exalted Seniors and the
‘off-limits” Science Labs. The classrooms were large and airy, with big
windows, and long polished corridors. I remember it fondly, a kind of gentleness emanated from
it. Rules were followed but we never scared or uncomfortable about them.
All the discipline seemed natural. Just a frown was a reprimand enough. There
aren't any particular moments or incidents that come to mind on how these ‘hard
to come by’ values of right and wrong, good and bad, kindness, politeness -
were imparted to us, yet they
somehow just formed part of our being. Ragging
was unheard of, seniors looked after us and we looked up to our seniors, the
teachers never raised their voices but we did as we were told. Moral Science
was taught and the moral of the story always had a way of becoming a part of
our life growing up.

I don’t recall much of Class VI – only that
it was a co-ed then - we had large wooden tables and chairs and we sat in
pairs. If you were made to sit next to a boy – were in the dog house. Behind me
sat a boy called Georgie - that's his real name. I used to wear my hair in two
plaits . He obviously did not like them because for some unknown reason he
would often pull them!?! Georgie if you read this please call and
apologise.

Our uniform was a white shirt and pleated
skirt – all one piece. Red buttons, red belt, red socks and last but not least
red ribbons completed the ensemble. It was then the only Convent in Ambala
Cantt. Like most children I cycled to school everyday, though there were a few
school buses from the Army areas too . It seems strange to me when I see the
limousines drive up outside schools nowadays dropping off kids.

School days went by in a blur of games and
exams. Vivid memories about the latter part of school when I came into the
senior classes. We had an Annual
Day and a Sports Day. Annual day was of course the hard work of all the
teachers and kids and the pleasure of parents seeing their “angels” performing. Sports Day- we had an athletic track towards the
rear of the school building and it was a life and death situation for our House
to win the shield. Red House (of
which I was the Captain and the loyalty still exists!) Blue House, Green House and Yellow House ( imaginative
names like rivers/flowers/lords/ etc. were not in vogue then). We also had
Throw Ball and a game called Tenniquoit (took me a lot of dictionaries to find
how that was spelt) - played with a rubber ring. Haven’t seen that in a couple
of decades!! And obviously the Olympic Committee hasn’t heard of it either!

Now a
special mention of the people who
shaped my life and my character. Heading the list is one of the softest,
gentlest people I have had the privilege of growing up under. ‘Mother Regis’.
How long I tried to look for her after I left school. She was the Principal
then - she knew each of us by name - but she always confused me and my ‘best
friend’ Ruby and always called us by the wrong one, although we didn’t look a
bit alike. One day I reached school late, Mother Regis was taking school assembly.
She announced “Good morning to all of you, and to you too Pomita,
who vaulted so gracefully over the gate”. This was her gentle reprimand. I was
never late for school again.

Sir Aneja- our Science teacher- tall,
slightly heavily built, a dark moustache and a big black mole on his cheek, if
I remember correctly. No special teaching aids, yet molecules and atoms came to life.
Sir Gujral- an old turbaned gentleman who wore his long, white beard
open- was also working with the science labs - he once came rushing out of the
Lab with his beard aflame!! Miss Hannah- oh, our dear Miss Hannah, who taught
us the ‘English Language’- whatever
I pen now can be credited to her- she
used to live on the school premises. When we gave in our essays for correction
it was always a tense moment – her glasses delicately balancing on the tip of
her nose, her pencil tapping on the table- she would make us stand while she
passed critical judgement on it.”And you Miss Pomita,
how could you come up with such an awful essay?” She hated the word ‘nice’.
“Nice? It conveys nothing!”. Miss, please note I have not used it even
once!

Miss Virk – our English
Literature teacher. She wore salwaar kameezes – Patiala salwars- hey,
they were fashionable then too! She used to cycle to school, we always wondered
how it never got caught in the cycle wheel. We
knew it was a Monday when she changed her outfit! How she managed to wash n
wear it for a week I am still at a loss to figure out- I mean there were no
washing machines and dryers way back then. (She
wore her hair in two little headlights on top of her head and a small bun at
the back.) She could cry while reading Macbeth to us! That’s how intense
Literature was.

Sister Imelda- the oldest nun in school, I
think she was probably eighty years old back then, taught us for just a
couple of months and then retired. Every time she used the alphabet ‘s’ there
was a kind of whistle with it. It seemed extremely funny to us at the time, now
I think I am going to be doing the same soon! Life catches up with one, be
careful whom you laugh at!

And I just have to devote an entire paragraph
to our Geography teacher- Miss Banerjee. For us, she was Miss Ambala, Miss India, Miss Universe all rolled into one! She was tall,
slim, beautiful. We adored her. She wore crisp cotton saris with three fourth
sleeved blouses, usually contrasting ones. It is not her looks I am talking
about- maybe she was not
beautiful in the true sense of the word, but the dignity and grace with which
she carried herself in a sari, her back always so straight and her held held
high. A little bit of her seeps into me every time I wear a sari, and I wonder
if I am doing it right, with the same grace. It
was an honour and privilege just to carry
books to her room, which was also on the campus. Sadly, all too soon, we heard she was
getting married and moving to some exotic foreign land!! It was like going to
the ends of the earth back then! I
think she was the only one for whom I went to the library to write an article
on volcanoes. Can you imagine how I felt when she praised me and read it out
loud in class? I think nothing has since or can ever give me the pleasure and joy matching that- and I feel the same
happiness even today as I think back to that day. Do students feel the same
nowadays - I hope so, from the very bottom of my heart!

Whatever and
however those wonderful teachers taught us, I don’t know- but there were
no tuitions and for some of us
our parents did not even know which class we were studying in. That says a lot
for those fabulous teachers. They taught us so much more than just our
textbooks- they taught us about life, and that’s how, I suppose, we are so well
equipped to deal with it today.

These memories always bring a smile to my
lips and a tear to my eye! If only one could reverse the years. I miss each of
them dearly and hope to catch them all in Heaven, and I’ll still be the same
schoolgirl, looking up to them with all the reverence they deserve.

(add something here).......I became a teacher
too!! And I love it with a passion! Only they could have inculcated it in me.

I would like to convey my adoration for these
wonderful teachers and this great school and I wish the school, faculty,
administration and the students all the very, very best for the coming
centuries! May all you students have the same schooling, and love for your
teachers and school always. I am proud to have been a student there.

Thank you!

Pomita Harmandar Singh (Billy)

Comments 12 comments

Well done Bils. Very touching and full of feeling. Keep on writing girl. Love.

Sally's Trove 6 years ago from Southeastern Pennsylvania

You have a wonderful way of describing people...I can see that little girl in the pleated skirt, white shirt, red-belted one-piece vaulting over the gate so clearly. I agree with Sabu: keep on writing!

billy 6 years ago

thanks sally- very encouraging since it was my first!!

Feline Prophet 6 years ago from India

School days were the best! I just can't understand it when people say they hated their days at school.

billy 6 years ago

i agree- feel sad to hear folks didnt enjoy school or college!! like bryan adams says- they were the best days of my life!!

festersporling1 6 years ago from Los Angeles, CA

100 years is a great accomplishment.

tonymac04 6 years ago from South Africa

Billy - a lovely read which I really enjoyed. Thanks so much. I have recently met a Ms Banerji, first name Lopa, and she's also very beautiful and a wonderful person. Loved you story of vaulting over the gate!

I'm glad you hold your head high - and why shouldn't you?

Love and peace

Tony

billy sidhu 6 years ago Author

Thanks Tony for reading and commenting!when i read the great hubs written so beautifully,i feel mine are way out of league. i seem to write more from the heart.........

love and peace to you too!

izettl 5 years ago from The Great Northwest

great story and what a memory you have of all the descriptive details. Keep on holding your head high.

Storytellersrus 4 years ago from Stepping past clutter

What a fun read! I am glad you answered my question, for it introduced us.

Limos to Catholic school now? Wow!

I loved your descriptions and your quotes and enthusiasm. I also had a most beautiful teacher whom I adored. Your memories generated memories for me. Thanks for a wonderful wake up story! Now on to the day...

billy sidhu 4 years ago

hey storytellerus- thank you for reading and your sweet comments- Yes , i am so glad we met too!! Hope to keep in touch